by Liv Bennett
“Come sit next to me.” He patted on the bed once again, this time quicker.
My heart thudded harder against my chest as my feet followed his order and walked toward the bed. I sat beside him, folding my hands in my lap, my eyes locked on the floor.
“I know you’re nervous, but I promise I’ll be gentle.”
Now, that’s a relief. How about you leave me alone and find a whore who’s willing to fulfill your wishes without being forced to.
“You’re so beautiful.” He moved closer and covered my hands in my lap. “And that dress you were wearing during the last dinner… I just couldn’t help myself.”
Now it was my fault. I shouldn’t have been wearing a dress. I should have had something decent to protect my dignity from preying eyes. Now it was too late. There was no going back to that evening, nor to the moment my mother had given me away. If I’d know this was how I would end up, I’d have wrapped myself around my mother’s waist and never let her go.
CH 11 - The Lawyer
~
Daisy’s is a high-profile restaurant where actors and agents hang out more often than any other professional group, and surprisingly, it’s also the location Julie picked for my date with Ashley, an immigration lawyer based in downtown L.A. I don’t know where Ashley lives, but if it’s anywhere around downtown, she’ll need an hour’s drive to get here, more so with the weekend traffic.
The waitress welcomes me by my name and walks me to a table out on the terrace, where daisies and lilacs hang down on every corner. Several heads turn as I navigate through the tables, a few of them familiar. I nod to those who smile at me and settle at the table the waitress shows me.
“What can I get you?” the waitress asks with a smile.
“Vodka on the rocks.”
“Zane, my friend!” A man cheers from behind me and hands grab my shoulders.
Merlin Angeli, an agent I’ve known and been friends with for many long years. I immediately stand to shake hands, both of us laughing at the opportunity to meet since our last contact a year ago. After small talk about the entertainment business, I ask him who he’s with.
He signals with his hand toward a table by the door. “With the beautiful Brandy Benfield.”
I work hard to keep the disgust off my face as I wave at Brandy, who shouts a flirty “Hello,” at me. I can smell her desperation from a mile away.
She’s one of those one-hit wonders, who by luck, snatched a big role in a blockbuster, then vanished into obscurity after being unable to handle the sudden fame. In other words, she started acting as if her shit didn’t stink and treated everyone around her like a piece of garbage while expecting the red carpet to be rolled out for her left and right.
When she realized there was no shortage of pretty faces and double DDs in Hollywood, it was too late for her, and her pitiful attempts to grab roles by spreading her legs to every producer with an upcoming project gained her nothing but a bad name.
I feel puke rising in my throat as I remember the night I spent with her, although she was down to do anything I wanted, including anal and threesome play. At that time, I wasn’t aware her eagerness was out of pure desperation to get her name back on the big screen. She played the innocent with a brilliant persuasiveness, I must give her that. But, the word about her desperation got around fast, and I cut all contact with her before she could take advantage of me.
I respond to Brandy’s eager wave with a quick nod of my head to prevent her from inviting herself over to my table and turn my attention back to Merlin. “I’ll see you around.”
It must be my lucky day because right at that time, Ashely, my date, emerges from the doorway. I recognize her from the photo Julie sent me along with the intensive background information she gathered about her.
When our eyes meet, Ashley smiles and quickly swings through the tables. I can’t keep my eyes from sweeping her curvy yet firm body up and down. A red halter dress is tastefully clinging to her tall figure, and the sexuality oozing out of her immediately pushes away any disgusting thoughts from my past.
Her beauty captivates my mind in a heartbeat. Her hair is a darker shade of blonde, her lips full and seductive, her eyes lit with joy, her skin dark and smooth. She’s the carbon copy of Beyoncé, except for her short hair. I can picture our beautiful babies, a half dozen of them, because as attractive as she is, there’s no way I’ll be able to take a break from knocking her up.
I grab her hand and raise it to my lips to get a quick taste of the skin I’ll hopefully soon be devouring. I might have lost my appetite after Felicia’s speedy blowjob, but Ashley’s beauty is extraordinary, I’ll give her extra points if she intends to suck my dick within the next twenty-four hours. Yeah, I’m a hypocrite like that. Sue me.
“Hello, Zane. What a pleasure to meet you.” She approaches me with an air of natural confidence. Her beautiful smile widens, revealing her pearly whites.
“The pleasure is definitely mine, and I assure you this is the first time I really mean it.”
She laughs at my comment, her cheeks turning pink, and gently slides her hand out of my hold. I notice the male guests at the neighboring tables shooting me jealous glances when I pull a chair out for Ashley. Even Merlin lifts an eyebrow in my direction.
Ashley is a solid twelve on an attractiveness scale of ten. And that alone has me drooling for her. And as if that’s not enough, she happens to be a brilliant lawyer with a summa cum laude from U.C.L.A.! There’s no way I’m letting her go. That’s why I put on my A game and play the perfect gentleman.
“I’ve never had a blind date before,” she confesses as we sip our vodkas. “In fact, I don’t have time to go on dates. My assistant set up my online dating profile. I’m not really sure what she wrote about me.”
“I think your assistant deserves a raise in salary. I’m grateful to have the chance the get to know you.” I set down my glass and shoot her a long, seductive look. I allow my blood to flow between my legs, hardening my cock just enough to feel testosterone running through my veins. Women can sense it when a man is aroused and ready to take them. It heightens their awareness and interest, although they probably have no idea why.
She responds with a sharp breath of air and licks her lips, her expression turning serious. “I…I…thank you.”
I grin to ease her tension. “So, tell me about your work.”
“I help undocumented immigrants who face deportation unite with their children,” she starts with a practiced ease. “When illegal immigrants are detained or arrested by the police, their children are transferred to foster care. The detention centers don’t allow parents to be at the court hearings to regain custody of their children. It’s nearly impossible to meet the requirements of the child welfare system from jail anyway. If not helped, the parents lose custody of their children for good.”
Now that’s a good cause. “That sounds horrible.”
“Yeah. We do the best we can. We’re a new firm, only two years old, but so far we’ve helped a few dozen families reunite.”
“I’m impressed.” And intrigued by her success.
“We still have a long way to go. There’re thousands of families who need legal help. Maybe you should consider making a movie about this issue to raise awareness.”
“Only if you’ll star as the main character.” I wink at her and watch with amazement as she melts and turns her eyes down to the table in embarrassment. “I assume your work keeps you very busy,” I say in an attempt to change the topic to a lighter subject.
“Yeah, it’s true, but I manage to spare time for my hobbies. I love surfing and gardening. I go to the movies and bowling. I swim and do yoga regularly. There’s no shortage of time for those who like to play, right?”
“That’s indeed true. Have you ever thought of marrying and settling down?” Even though the question makes me feel like I’m interviewing Ashley, I can see Julie smiling at it in approval.
“I’ve always wanted a family with two kids. It’s just
that the dating scene is intimidating. It’s hard to see if a man is serious or just playing the game to get laid. But, what’s written about you isn’t exactly hope-inducing.”
I laugh hard at her forwardness. “I won’t lie and deny my womanizer tendencies,” I admit after I can get my laughter in check. “I’m guilty of loving women a bit too much. But I know a catch when I see one, and you, my dear, aren’t just a catch, you’re a keeper.”
She narrows her eyes at me, her brows furrowing for quite a long time, as she judges my honesty. “I might be a keeper, but your observation doesn’t say anything about your willingness to get serious.”
I straighten up, squaring my shoulders, erasing the playful laughter off my lips. “I’m ready to settle down for the right woman,” I say with my most earnest voice.
Looking content with my answer, she starts talking about her retired parents, her two sisters who own a ranch just outside of Glenwood, her high school sweetheart who died in a car accident two weeks into their engagement, her three-legged Spaniel roommate, and her four-bedroom home she bought last year by the Grove but hasn’t started decorating yet.
From the details she reveals about herself and the way she talks, I can tell she comes from a loving home and that she’s humane, vulnerable, sometimes silly, yet smart without being pretentious, which is hard to find in the entertainment world. In short, her character and beauty leave me speechless, and I desperately hope my impression of her won’t be ruined as in Felicia’s case.
After the waitress clears out our dishes, Ashley gives me a quizzical look, asking me ‘what’s next?’ without using words. I can’t just let her go, so I request the waitress to bring us menus so we can order dessert. Ashley lets out a long breath and scans the menu quickly. We order strawberry cheesecake and dessert wine to go with it and continue our lively conversation while waiting for our orders.
When the waitress returns with our dessert, I mentally start to lay out a plan to keep Ashley’s attention. A woman with her beauty, brains, and sweetness is a rare occurrence, and I’d be a fool if I ruined the chance to get to know her better. The day is still young, and L.A. has several romantic spots I can take her to without intimidating her. A friendly stroll by the sea in Santa Monica, a quick visit to LACMA. Even Lake Hollywood is only forty minutes away and the drive there in my limousine will give me more time to indulge myself in her beauty.
Just when I decide on my next move, a gentle grab of a hand on my shoulder stops me before I can move forward with my plan, and what I see makes me cringe. Literally cringe with disappointment and anger.
Brandy Benfield leans down to give me an intimate kiss on the cheek and slides her goddamn hand possessively from one shoulder to the other. “Hello Zane. I should actually be mad at you for making yourself scarce after that night we spent at your condo, but I can’t. You’re too sexy to be mad at,” she says with what I assume is meant to be a cute, childish voice, but it only sounds like chair legs scraping the floor. Then, she turns to Ashley. “He’s always been like that, hot in the beginning, cold after he gets what he wants.”
Ashley’s good mood deteriorates instantly and blood abandons the smooth skin of her beautiful face. Her eyes move from Brandy to me, her gaze revealing her disappointment.
“I’m sorry for my manners. I’m Brandy Benfield.” Brandy shoves her hand toward Ashley to shake hands, pushing her hip against the side of my body in the process.
“I watched Falling Apart at least five times.” Ashley takes Brandy’s hand in a professional manner, her voice warm despite the cold expression on her face. “It’s a beautiful story.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Brandy says in her condescending voice as she looks down at me. “She’s gorgeous. Let me know if you’re up for a threesome, like we did last time with that eighteen-year-old striptease.” A naughty and knowing laughter punctuates the most embarrassing words ever uttered about me.
Here’s a smart, beautiful, loving woman worthy of any man’s commitment, but I can’t stop her from slipping through my fingers. Worst of it all, Brandy isn’t coming up with a fake story. I indeed fucked her and an eighteen-year-old striptease at my condo and it wasn’t even all that long ago.
I can’t speak, neither can Ashley, while we look at each other with shock. After dropping her carefully planted bomb, Brandy releases me from her hold and wishes us a great rest of the day, not skipping the opportunity to plaster her dirty lips on my cheek before she leaves.
Ashley’s chest rises with a deep intake of air as she reaches for her purse to get money out. “This was a lovely meal. Unfortunately, I have to get back to work.” She places a hundred dollar bill beside her glass, and I know exactly what she’s trying to convey with her gesture. Women, especially the high-quality ones, don’t like feeling in debt when there’s no chance for a second date, and after Brandy’s reveal, no worthy woman would waste time on a follow-up date with me.
Feeling angry at myself, I launch forward and capture her hand. “Please, stay.”
Her shimmering black eyes glance back at me with sadness. “There’s no reason for me to stay unless what she said about you and a barely legal striptease was a lie.”
“It’s true, and I’m very ashamed of it.”
“Hmm.” Slowly, she slides her hand away from beneath mine and closes her bag. “That’s unfortunate.”
“It is. But it was in the past. I’m not interested in that life anymore. I’m looking forward to dedicating myself to one woman only, and I wish you could give me a chance to prove that to you.”
She shakes her head, looking unconvinced by my declaration. “Past behavior is a reliable predictor of future behavior. I can’t waste my limited time on something so predictably unfulfilling. I’m sorry, but you’re not the type of man I’m planning to get involved with.”
“Ashley, please.”
“I’m sorry.” She gets to her feet with a clear conviction and strides through the tables into the restaurant building.
I gaze at the door, hating myself for ruining a perfectly good opportunity with my shameful past. Julie was right. I don’t have the right to demand a high-quality woman when my past is nothing but appalling. The women I want won’t want me, and those who want me aren’t exactly marriage material. My quest for a happy family life is looking less promising all the time. So, where does that leave me?
CH 12 - The Unreachable
~
My phone rings as I walk out of the restaurant, disappointment at losing the chance to get to know Ashley due to my promiscuous lifestyle still heavy on my chest. Ignoring the curious looks on the passers-by on the street, I place the phone against my ear.
“How was it?” Julie shouts enthusiastically on the other line.
“Terrible. Brandy Benfield was there.”
“Oh, my God! Brandy of all people. She’s such a gossip.”
“She’s more than a gossip. She spilled all my dirty laundry to Ashley. So disappointing. Ashley was a catch.”
Her voice comes off even more cheerful when she says, “Don’t you worry about it. Next on the list is even better.”
“I highly doubt it. I don’t know how you managed to find her, but she was a precious diamond. I don’t think I’ll find another woman like her.”
Julie gives me the address for the next date, which is another restaurant only two blocks away. I look left and right over my shoulders to make sure Brandy isn’t around to eavesdrop and sabotage my next date.
Unbeknownst to Julie, this back-to-back date arrangement was actually a great idea, because meeting another woman is the only way to help me get over my humiliating failure. Although it’s hard to say goodbye to Ashley, my next date will be my rescue.
I arrive twenty minutes early for my next date and order red wine while waiting and mentally preparing myself for another woman.
Soren is thirty, of Danish origin, and the founder of an online clothing boutique. From the photo Julie attached of her, she could easily be a supermodel with
her tall, lean figure and long pale-blonde hair. Julie clearly knows my weakness for blonde women, including the dyed blondes.
I sip my drink slowly, passing the time reading and re-reading the lines on Soren’s resume. I’m on my fourth glass of wine when my phone rings again with Julie’s call.
“Zane, I just received a call from Soren, your date. She can’t make it.”
“Figures.”
“She asked if she can reschedule it.”
I roll my eyes in slight anger. “Sure.”
“Three weeks from today?”
“What? That’s too long. I can wait here another hour if she can make it.”
“No. She has to fly to Dubai in two hours and won’t be back until Saturday in three weeks. Oh, wait, you have to be in New York that Saturday. Hold on. I’ll call her secretary to arrange another date… Hey… Her secretary just told me Soren has a flight scheduled for that Saturday afternoon to Columbia. Her next open date is in six weeks. What do you say?”
“What do I say?” I repeat with sarcasm. “Tell her that I don’t have time for a woman who can’t make time for me.”
“Are you angry?” Julie asks, her voice tender with compassion.
“Not at you,” I say apologetically. “At myself.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out as you planned. I have several other dates lined up for you. You’ll find the woman who’ll make you happy when the time is right. I promise.”
“I give up. I’m not exactly a family guy. I know myself, I won’t change from night to day. I am who I am and I was happy that way until you came up with your marriage scheme. Sorry Julie, but it won’t work.” I disconnect before she can try and convince me to the contrary. My shoulders slumped, I order the waitress to bring me the whole bottle of wine. I might as well toast the return to my bachelor life.